My Alpha Rejected Me for His Chosen Luna

The monitor beside Noelle's bed flatlined, its steady tone cutting through the chaos of the infirmary. My heart stopped with it.

"Noelle!" I screamed, trying to push past Dr. Hayes. "Do something! Save her!"

The doctor stood frozen, her eyes fixed on the clipboard in her hands. "I can't," she whispered, her voice breaking. "The order..."

"What order?" I demanded, my hands shaking as I reached for the clipboard.

Before I could take it, the infirmary doors burst open. Julian stormed in, his Alpha presence filling the room like a physical force. His eyes, cold and hard as granite, swept over the scene before landing on me.

"What happened?" he demanded, his voice deadly calm.

Dr. Hayes handed him the clipboard, her hands trembling. "She's gone. The toxins were too advanced."

Julian's eyes scanned the document, his expression darkening with each line. When he reached the signature at the bottom, something dangerous flashed across his face.

"Elena Scott," he said, my name sounding like poison on his lips. "Explain this."

He thrust the clipboard toward me. There, at the bottom of a document I barely remembered signing, was my signature—not on a transfer authorization, but on a "Do Not Resuscitate" order.

"I didn't—" I started, but Julian cut me off.

"You signed an order to let her die," he snarled, his Alpha tone making my knees buckle. "You poisoned her with wolfsbane and then denied her treatment."

"No!" I cried, grabbing his arm. "Julian, please—Tiffany tricked me! I thought I was signing a transfer form!"

His hand shot out, gripping my throat as he lifted me against the wall. "You killed your own cousin," he growled, his face inches from mine. "You murdered a pack member—your own blood."

The room spun around me as his words sank in. Kinslayer. The worst crime in werewolf society.

"Take her to the dungeons," Julian ordered, throwing me to the floor. "She'll rot there until I decide her execution date."

---

The dungeons beneath the pack house were ancient, the walls lined with silver that burned my skin even through the chains. Julian himself dragged me down here, his grip bruising as he secured me to the wall.

"You're a disgrace to this pack," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "To think I once considered you family."

"Julian," I pleaded, reaching for him with my bound hands. "Please listen—"

He turned away, his broad shoulders rigid. "You'll stay here until I decide what to do with you."

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving me in darkness broken only by a single torch in the hallway. The silver chains burned against my skin, each breath becoming more labored than the last.

*Elena,* my wolf whimpered, her voice growing fainter each day. *We're dying.*

"I know," I whispered into the darkness. "But we can't give up."

Yet as days passed into weeks, I felt her presence fading—a slow, painful retreat deep within me. The rejection had wounded her, but this imprisonment was killing her. Without my wolf, I would be nothing but a hollow shell.

"We have to leave," I told her one night as I felt her consciousness flickering. "Or we'll die here."

---

The opportunity came during a rogue attack on the northern border. Distant howls and shouts echoed through the dungeon walls as guards rushed to defend the territory. Only one young Delta remained at his post outside my cell.

"Marcus," I called softly, recognizing the Beta who had once been kind to me. "Please..."

He approached cautiously, his eyes darting nervously down the corridor. "I shouldn't be here," he whispered.

"Then why are you?" I asked.

He glanced over his shoulder before pulling a key from his pocket. "Because this isn't right," he said, unlocking my chains. "What they're doing to you..."

As he freed me, he "accidentally" knocked over a lantern, sending it crashing into the pile of straw bedding in the corner. Flames erupted instantly, spreading across the dry material.

"Go," he urged, backing toward the door. "There's a service exit at the end of the corridor."

I didn't hesitate. Limping as fast as my damaged leg would allow, I followed the smell of smoke and chaos toward freedom.

The night air hit my face like salvation as I emerged from the dungeons. In the distance, I could see the pack warriors engaged with rogues at the border—a diversion that had drawn away most of the guards.

I ran toward the eastern edge of the territory, where the land dropped away to a cliff overlooking an icy river. Behind me, shouts rose as someone spotted my escape.

"Faster," I urged my weakened body, the cliff edge looming ahead.

Julian's howl cut through the night—a sound of pure rage that froze my blood. He was coming for me.

I reached the cliff edge just as warriors burst from the tree line behind me. Without hesitation, I launched myself into the void, my body arcing through the cold night air before plunging into the freezing river below.

The current seized me immediately, pulling me under and away from the shore. As the icy water closed over my head, I felt something snap inside me—the pack link severing as the distance between us grew.

Either I would drown in these waters... or I would be free.